Flawed Reasoning
by detectivejigsaw
Summary: A slightly AU addition to the episode "Scary Oke," during the scene in the attic where Stan reveals that he's always known about the weirdness of Gravity Falls. Dipper objects to his reasons for keeping it from him and Mabel. Just something that's been niggling at me, itching to be said. Given the genre of "Family" for want of a better description.


**The beginning of this has dialogue straight from the episode "Scary Oke," which I do not own. Please don't sue me, Disney XD; I just barely graduated from college a few years ago and am trying to get into grad school, so I'm really not worth your time.**

**Hopefully this is well enough in character; this is my first "Gravity Falls" fic that includes actual dialogue, so fingers crossed.**

* * *

"Kid, I've always known."

There didn't seem like a point in trying to keep it a secret now, after he'd completely demolished several zombies without even being surprised at their existence.

Dipper gaped at his great-uncle (or grunkle, to him and Mabel) in disbelief. "Wait, what are you talking about?"

Stan Pines rounded on the boy. "I'm not an idiot, Dipper! Of _course_ this town is weird! And the one thing I know about that weirdness is that it's dangerous!" The four of them-Stan, Dipper, Mabel and Waddles-backed away from the door to the center of the room as a cluster of zombie hands smashed through it, clawing at the air hungrily. "I've been lying about it to try to keep you away from it. To protect you from it!"

A new zombie broke through the window behind them, and Stan hurriedly introduced it to his treasured brass knuckles, watching as it toppled to the porch; the head fell off with a satisfying popping sound as it landed. He was about to make a snide comment about how he clearly hadn't lied well enough, when he was interrupted by a somewhat shrill, angry, prepubescent voice.

"Wait, you thought keeping us in the dark about this town would keep us _safe_?!"

"Um, Dipper, now might not be a good time for this." Mabel tried to put a calming hand on her twin's shoulder, but he shook her off, tiny fists clenching. Stan pulled his head back in and started to open his mouth, but the boy's voice rose into a yell, interrupting whatever he'd been about to say.

"Instead of trying to _tell_ us about all the crazy things so we'd be better prepared for them? Do you have _any_ idea what happened to us because we didn't know what we were up against?!"

Again, he didn't give Stan a chance to reply; his noodle arms were thrown into the air as he ranted. "Mabel got kidnapped by a bunch of gnomes on our _second day_ here, and then we got chased by a hundred of them all formed into a giant gnome monster! Mabel and I accidentally _switched bodies_ because of that stupid rug in the hidden room!"

Inwardly Stan cringed; he'd thought their voices were sounding a little reversed. And, he realized with an extra internal groan, it meant that he'd given 'the talk' to the wrong kid...

"Gideon used his creepy amulet to try to kill me with lamb shears and then threw me out a window! I summoned a video game character to be my bodyguard, and he nearly killed Wendy's ex-boyfriend before I stopped him!" He barely stopped to breathe. "We had to go into your_ mind _to protect you from a_ dream demon, _and you know what helped us?" He practically thrust the journal into Stan's face. "_This! _Figuring out how to deal with all the weirdness using the journal, or just from what we figured out on our own, is what helped keep us safe! _Not_ trying to pretend it didn't exist!"

For a few seconds, Stan was actually taken aback; but then his natural belligerence in the face of confrontation took over, and he snapped back, "And look what your 'figuring things out' did now!" as he waved a hand towards the window, at the groans of the undead coming from outside. Which he instantly knew was a cheap shot, even if it was true.

"Guys, come on!" Mabel tried to object, but neither of them paid her any attention.

Stan took a deep breath, and then the next truth came spitting out, with anger and worry and just the tiniest hint of anguish if you were looking for it.

"I don't want you to end up like-"

_My twin my brother my best friend who was-no, _is_, has to be _is_-too smart and nosy for his own good._

He managed to change the words in his mouth without pausing.

"-people I knew who got in a lot of trouble by constantly investigating all the weird stuff!"

That was a mistake; Dipper's eyes brightened with very familiar sharp curiosity that temporarily overrode his anger and hurt, and he asked, "You did? Like who?"

Before Stan could use the lie that was automatically rising to his tongue, Mabel evidently decided she was tired of being ignored and grabbed his sleeve, yanking him back to the smashed window and pointing out at the horde of hungry zombies making a total mess of the lawn.

"What are we gonna do about _them_?" she asked frantically.

Dipper sighed and flipped through his book, giving Stan a short 'I guess we have something more important to worry about right now but this isn't over' glare. "Well, normally the journal would help us, but there's nothing in there about defeating zombies!"

Just in time for him to step into the black light, and reveal the invisible writing.

* * *

After the carnage was ended, and Soos had been de-zombified, everyone decided to just take a few hours to sleep before they tried to get everything cleaned up. As the twins started climbing the still intact parts of the stairs to the attic, though, Stan swallowed his pride enough to say softly, "Hey."

He waited until they looked at him, and then admitted, "I, um-I probably didn't handle this right. The whole you and the supernatural thing." He rubbed the back of his neck with one hand sheepishly, giving Mabel and Dipper a tiny shrug.

"I mighta known not being told about things would just make you more curious. Maybe I shoulda just told you from the start."

It wasn't saying the exact words "I'm sorry," but it was evidently enough to satisfy them; Dipper gave him a tentative smile, and Mabel gave him a more open, braces-filled one.

Then he waved his hand, shooing them away. "Now go get some sleep, knuckleheads."

He would sleep later, he told himself.

Right now he had work to do in the basement.


End file.
